Читать книгу Shattering Glass - John Russell Fearn - Страница 7

CHAPTER FOUR

PERRY’S FRIENDS

FROM the moment she had the diamond engagement ring placed on her finger, Moira had been constantly on the go. Ignoring her pleas that she pre­ferred solitude, Perry took her first to his London flat, where she met Pearson, the only existing member of the Lonsdale domestic staff, and then on to Brinhampton and the “Larches.” Pearson, who also acted as chauffeur, drove while Perry and the girl sat back and enjoyed the scenery.

“I seem to be living in a dream,” Moira said, closing her eyes. “Every­thing happens so efficiently—and you pour out money as though it’s water. I’ve bought everything I ever thought of or even dreamed about.”

“Including your trousseau,” Perry reminded her. “My part in the wedding business is a special license. We’re going to be married on Friday, exactly a week after our engagement. That’s a bit more of the efficiency you were talking about.”

“On Friday!” Moira opened her eyes in surprise. “But I thought you said it was going to be marriage on the grand Lonsdale style? I’ve had visions of church bells, cheering spectators throwing confetti, dozens of your friends, the organ booming mightily—”

“None of which you really care about,” he pointed out.

“Well no, but if it pleases you....”

“I thought better of it. After all, these are austere days. With this special license we can be married anywhere in the country, so why not at the Larches? Just the minister, a few friends. No more then four with two of them as witnesses. I’ve already written them. You’ll make their acquaintance when we get home—home being the Larches from now on. They’re turning up for a house-warming and, of course, will be with us until after the ceremony.”

Moira nodded slowly, a somewhat wondering, bothered look crossing her face.

“And after we’re married?” she inquired. “Where do we honeymoon?”

“The south of France. Be a bit warmer. I’ve made reservations so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“It will be wonderful, Perry—and you’ve planned everything so marve­lously—but didn’t you say that you have no staff at the Larches? That Pearson is the only man you’ve been able to get hold of so far?”

“Pearson was down here yesterday engaging a new staff. Matter of fact he’s only been with me six weeks or so. Nothing has been overlooked. You’ll see.”

Moira made no more observations on the subject, content with his assurance all would be well. Towards late afternoon they drew near a massive eighteenth-century type manor house. Moira watched as they approached it and her breathing quickened.

“You mean you own that? That I’ll be the mistress of it?” she asked Perry eagerly.

“If it appeals to you. If it doesn’t I can very soon buy another one.”

“Appeals to me!” she gasped. “Why, I have never seen anything so marvelous. It looks to me like something out of fairyland! I’ve not been used to such wonderful things.”

“Then don’t ever say so out loud,” he said, with gentle firmness. “I shall want my wife to act as to the manor born—and no pun intended. Now, get yourself ready—the folks will be waiting for us.”

They were. Two young men and women came speeding down the broad steps and wrenched open the car doors. Moira recoiled a little as grinning faces studied her critically.

“Have a heart!” Perry protested. Give the girl a chance to get to know you—”

“Nothing doing, Perry,” one of them told him calmly. “First impressions are the most important. Mmm—so you finally managed it! Didn’t make any mistake in your choice, either—eh, Dick?”

Both stood at mock attention as Moira stepped out of the car. She gave a quick glance about her and almost immediately found herself seized by the two young women.

One was blonde, dumpy, and laughing; the other tall and dark, not unlike Moira herself. Laughing protestingly, Moira was swept into the great hall.

Here she paused breathlessly and turned as Perry came in with the two young men hanging upon his arms.

“Well,” said the one who had appraised Moira, “you wanted the house warmed and a cheerful welcome on the mat. You got it. Now what happens?”

“You don’t have to be so confoundedly wholesale,” Perry objected. “Moira hates this kind of thing. She much prefers things quiet and secluded.”

“That,” said the young man solemnly, “is positively morbid. In fact it is a condition which must be outgrown—and quickly.”

“Take no notice of ’em,” Perry smiled, taking Moira’s arm and drawing her to him. “And while I’m about it, let me clear up the identities of this crazy quartet. This chap with the yellow hair and vacant expression is Dick Mills, one of the best navigators the R.A.F. ever had, and also my best friend.”

“Grand knowing you, Moira,” grinned the young man. “Perry walked off with the prize after all—and that,” he added soothingly as his blonde companion gave him a sharp look, “isn’t meant to slight you, Betty darling. In any case, you are my type—honey-haired. So don’t start thinking things.”

“This,” Perry went on, “is Dick’s wife—Betty.”

“Take no notice of Dick,” Betty said cheerfully. “He’s always clowning. I’ve been married to him for five years and am sort of used to it.”

Moira smiled and shook the hand held out to her. “I’m sure you’re both happy people,” she said.

“And here’s Helen Ransome,” Parry said, as the dark-headed girl moved forward. “And Will Ransome—brother, not husband.”

“Nice knowing you, Moira,” said the young man.

“Very nice,” Helen agreed. “And don’t mind me staring at you a little, Moira, will you? I’ve been trying to think of whom you remind me.”

“I?” Moira gave a little start. “Why who is it?”

“Myself,” Helen decided, shrugging. “We look enough alike to be sisters. Same dark hair, same height, same build. I’m sure we must have a lot in common.”

“I hope I shall have a lot in common with all Perry’s friends.” Moira replied.

“Tell you what you do,” Perry said, catching Moira’s arm. “Just get acquainted while I see how Pearson has fixed up the domestics.”

“Better still,” Helen Ransome said, “I’ll show you to your room—then we can go over the place if you like. I know every corner of it. When Perry and I were children we used to play here a lot.... Come along.”

Moira nodded as Helen took her arm and together they went towards the massive staircase.

“This business seems so sudden,” Helen said, as they ascended. “Or rather unexpected. Nothing to do with me, of course, and please don’t think I’m trying to be inquisitive, but how on earth did you manage to hook him?”

“We met by accident,” Moira responded, in no mood to give full details. “It wasn’t that I fell for him so much as he fell for me.”

“Then I don’t understand it,” Helen sighed.

“Don’t understand what?”

They had come to the head of the great staircase. Helen pointed along the corridor with its towering, stained-glass windows.

“Your room’s along here,” she said. “I’ve spent quite a bit of time telling the housekeeper what to do. Perry relies implicitly on my judgment, you know.”

“I didn’t know.” Moira reflected briefly. “What is it that you don’t understand?” she asked. “You were saying—?”

“Oh, that!” Helen Ransome gave a serious little smile. “I don’t under­stand what it is that you’ve got and I haven’t. We are alike in appearance, and I’ve tried my level best to get Perry to marry me—but to no avail. Then he chooses you! The only answer I can think of it that you have some kind of hypnotic power. There can’t be any other reason, can there?”

“Except that we love each other,” Moira suggested coolly.

“Doesn’t count for much these days,” Helen said. “Anyway, Perry marrying you shows you can never tell with men—and they say it’s the women who provide the unpredictable element! I shan’t believe that any more. Well, here’s the room you will be using until after the wedding.”

“It’s beautiful,” Moira observed.

“Best room in the house,” Helen sighed. “Of its size, that is. I used to have it when I came over to stay: now I’m pushed into a smaller one. All according to Perry’s special orders. I suppose I can label myself his forgotten woman—”

“Why don’t you go and sharpen your claws on some other tree, Helen?”

Perry’s easy voice inquired, and both women turned to see him lounging in the corridor, shoulder against the door jamb. As he met their gaze he came forward and put a protective aim about Moira’s shoulders. “Helen been baring her fangs at you?” he asked, smiling.

“Well, of course I have,” Helen admitted, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t expect me to accept defeat with gracious charm, do you? In my opinion, the woman who’ll do that isn’t yet born. Well, I think I’ll leave you two to finish the tour by yourselves. See you again, Moira, and don’t think too badly of me. I have the darnedest habit of saying just what I think.”

She turned languidly and ambled down the corridor.

“Very outspoken,” Moira commented.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone with her,” Perry apologized. “It never occurred to me that she might let herself go. Habit she’s got. The rest of us are used to it and shut her up accordingly, but strangers don’t always understand. She’s harmless enough, but a bit piqued, I think, because I’ve never asked her to marry me.”

“You chose me, Perry, and I’m not much different.”

“The difference lies in the fact that I love you and I don’t love her. I don’t have to enlarge on that, do I?”

“No, of course not.” Moira walked over to the window. For a while she studied the wintry grounds. March was a long time shaking off his frosty garments this year. “How about the servants?” she inquired presently. “Did Pearson fix it up?”

“As well as he could under present conditions. All we have is a cook housekeeper and Pearson himself. The best we can do until the agency sends us some maids. We’ll get by. I have an idea, somehow, that you’re the managing sort.”

Moira did not reply. She was gazing beyond the grounds at the dimly rising mists of evening. Perry studied her for a moment, then went over to her. To his surprise there were tears in her eyes as she turned to face him.

“Crying?” he asked, amazed. “What in the world is there to cry about? Something I’ve said—or done?”

“Of course not, Perry.” She made an effort to smile and rested a hand on his arm. “You’re the sweetest, gentlest man I have ever met. I was just thinking how awful it would be if I were to lose all this. There’s such peace and contentment here. I can feel it. It’s like a backwater, secure from the storm.”

“What storm?” he demanded, bewildered; then his voice firmed, suddenly. “Moira, isn’t it about time you put pretence aside and admit you fear something? I haven’t forgotten how you behaved in the cafe that first night.”

She was silent, but her tears ebbed slowly. Perry waited, then shrugged.

“All right, you’re entitled to have your secrets—but I think I should tell you that’s one reason why I decided to marry you so quickly.”

Moira looked at him sharply, puzzled. “Why? How do you mean?”

“I like danger,” he explained, grinning. “To marry an ordinary humdrum woman would be too tame. That’s why I never have married. With you there’s none of that. There’s some mystery about you, and I like it. You’re afraid of somebody—and I think it’s a man in a soft hat—but I like that, too. Because of our marriage I’ll be able to share whatever danger may threaten you, and enjoy it; and I’ll be able to protect you. Money and influence can do a lot.”